A Killer Within Page #5

going after Bruton.

It's going to be

a beautiful night.

Now that you're leaving, it is.

Can I talk you out of this?

No.

Here. Take this.

What the hell are you doing

with that gun?

I got it the day Sonny Bruton

tried to kill you in court.

Just keep it.

I don't need it, OK?

Why don't you take

the gun, man?

Guns kill people.

That's why I like them.

Well, you're sick.

We all know that.

It's not the gun that's bad.

It's the hand that holds it.

I just want to talk

to Bruton, OK?

I don't even know for sure...

if he's the one

that killed Becky.

Oh, he killed her all right.

What makes you so sure

about that?

It's not my first rodeo.

I'm a cop.

Instinct tells me

Bruton did it.

How are we gonna find

Ortiz Street?

You got a GPS in this thing?

Yeah, right.

It's called a Mapsco.

Mapsco.

- Hey, baby.

- Whoo!

Que linda. Ha ha,

you're looking good tonight.

Hey, the one

in the fuckme pumps...

She's got the hots for you.

Well, ask her if she'll take

a credit card.

I'm out of cash.

Let me handle this, amigo.

Hey, hey.

Oh, my God!

- Get in the car.

- She's been shot.

- You can't help her, man.

Get in the f***ing car!

Snitches snitch both ways.

I can't believe I forgot that.

Oh, God.

It happened so fast.

We're not going to

catch this guy.

There are no plates on his car.

Look, let's go back

to help that girl.

Forget about that b*tch, man.

Start worrying about yourself.

Aha. There they go now.

Batman and Robin.

That girl couldn't have

been more than 16 years old.

Hey, look. The old ones do it

to feed their kids.

The young ones do it

to feed their habits.

Just forget about it.

No. You just don't

want to go back...

because you don't want

Garrett to know...

we're after Angel Zamora.

Look, drop it, all right?

It's my f***ing case now.

Not his.

Come on, man, I want

to check something out...

while the site's still hot.

County morgue.

I'm gonna check

the autopsy results.

Make sure there's no mistake.

You don't have to come in

if you don't want to.

Doc.

Come on, Vargas. We're closed.

Dr. Schultz, you know

the morgue never closes.

After this, I don't owe you

anymore, you got it?

Who is this?

Dr. Schultz, Addison Terrill.

Husband of the deceased.

The husband, huh?

You sure you want to do this?

I'm sure.

Then come with me.

She had.15 blood alcohol level.

Someone came up

from behind her...

and killed her with a garrote.

It was probably cloth...

and it may have been impulsive.

Impulsive?

Right. In my opinion...

someone would be

acting on an impulse...

would bring both hands up...

and then bring them down

with the cloth and around...

and then he would

have to cross his arms...

behind the victim's head.

Now, with the arms

being so close...

the lines don't touch

at the back of the neck.

And...

we found skin tissue

under her fingernails...

from her own throat.

If you'll notice the grooves

on her neck...

she fought back...

and she made

those marks herself...

when she was trying to breathe.

And, uh, her fingernails

drew blood.

So we're still looking

for a missing stocking.

Yeah. One with blood on it.

So if she fought back,

then whoever killed her...

must have been very strong.

Yeah. Lots of

upper-body strength.

Real macho.

Someone with very strong hands.

You see, it takes some time

to strangle someone.

You have to hold them steady...

while the life

drains from them...

and someone came up

behind her and grabbed her...

Stop.

Oh, excuse me...

I mean, excuse me, please.

I have no bedside manners.

I am a pathologist.

That's what I...

I'm a doctor for the dead.

But I can swear to three things

in this case, Vargas.

She was drunk,

she was killed from behind...

and she was dead before she

was tied to that bed.

If you're gonna puke,

do it now.

I'm all right.

No, shyster.

You need a little pick-me-up.

I know just the vice.

I don't drink.

You need something stronger

than alcohol.

Hey. What's up, Phil?

Good to see you, man.

Hey, Officer Vargas.

Long time, no see.

Yeah, I'm back now.

Good to see you.

Hey, Vargas.

Where's that money you owe me?

Still in the bank

collecting interest.

All right.

How are things

down at the museum?

I'm still trying to learn

how to use a paintbrush.

- Museum?

- Yeah. My day job.

I'm a security guard

at the Museum of Modern Art.

- Really?

- Yeah.

Personally, I would get rid

of all that crap...

and bring in some real art.

You know, paintings

of matadors on black velvet.

You know, stuff like that.

Hey, Vargas. The usual?

Yeah. One little wheel

from heaven, baby.

And what'll you have?

Uh, just an espresso.

We have coffee.

You have two choices,

take it or leave it.

Uh, do you have Dr Pepper?

How about a doughnut?

It's what we sell here.

OK. What kind

of doughnuts do you have?

Chocolate, vanilla, maple,

strawberry, cream...

glazed, powdered sugar,

with nuts, without nuts...

with sprinkles,

without sprinkles.

What was the third one?

Just give him a plain

doughnut, all right?

Thanks.

You know your problem, Terrill?

You're compulsive about

not being compulsive.

Really? What's your problem?

That I ain't a cop no more.

You know, suppose

we do find Bruton...

and suppose you know it was

Bruton who killed your wife...

and you can't prove it.

What are you gonna do?

I'm not gonna manufacture

evidence against him...

if that's what

you're getting at.

Even if it means getting

a murderer off the street?

A man who might kill your son?

No.

You know, I've been meaning

to ask you something...

for a long time...

but until tonight,

we werert on speaking terms.

Who told you I planted

the blanket fibers on Stroud?

Who told me?

You really want to know?

Your old buddy... your ex-partner

Lieutenant Garrett.

I thought so.

Maybe he thought I wouldn't

use it against you.

Yeah, I don't blame Garrett.

Straight-laced cop

who plays by the book.

No imagination.

Imagination?

Is that what it takes

to plant evidence?

It's not like I didn't have

any evidence on Stroud.

Just not enough

to convince a jury.

I only planted enough

to prove the elements.

A lot of cops plant evidence.

We don't plant evidence

on innocent people...

only on the scum

we can't quite get.

Really? And who decides

who's scum?

You guys gather around

the police locker room,

you take a little vote?

You know, l...

You don't know what it's like...

to track a criminal

for two years...

and watch him go free...

and you don't know

what it's like...

to tell a mother that her kid

is never coming home...

from school again.

Now, when you let Stroud go...

and he killed

another little girl...

that's when I

hated your guts.

You know something?

You're lucky

I didn't prosecute you...

for fabricating

physical evidence.

You would have spent two to ten

years in prison for that...

not to mention a fat

little fine of about $10,000.

Would you have preferred that?

You know, Terrill?

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